


From keg stands to robots: a year in geek-bro courtship

by athenejen



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dallas Stars, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-06 16:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3141296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athenejen/pseuds/athenejen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Jamie meets Tyler Seguin, he almost walks face-first into his junk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From keg stands to robots: a year in geek-bro courtship

**Author's Note:**

  * For [engine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/engine/gifts).



> Written for this awesome prompt: _I just got this idea for a college AU where Tyler seems like this dumbass party frat boy, and then it turns out he’s like this honor roll top student who just happens to be extremely social. And Jamie is SUPER INTO IT. I dunno, it doesn’t have to be college, but there you go._
> 
> This is set at a slightly AU version of UT Austin that is basically an amalgam of the various colleges I've attended. I also fudged their ages a bit — Tyler's a freshman, Jamie's a sophomore, and Jordie's a junior.
> 
> Farwing and greenlily did wonderful last-minute beta work, thank you both so much.
> 
> I had a ton of fun writing this. Thank you for the wonderful prompt, engine, and I hope you enjoy the story.

The first time Jamie meets Tyler Seguin, he almost walks face-first into his junk.

Whoever thought putting a keg right in the archway to the living room was a good idea (Jamie's guess is Eaks, who frequently gets distracted by shiny objects and tends to drop whatever he happens to be carrying near the door) was probably smoking something, and that goes double for anyone who then decides that this is the perfect keg for a keg stand.

Especially if that anyone is shirtless and in cargo shorts so worn through at the crotch that Jamie catches a glimpse of green plaid boxers before the legs kick back down and a smiling face pops up in their place.

The guy wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and seems to be about to say something when one of the Delta guys from the frat across the street, Demers, shouts from across the room, "Hey, Segs. Catch!" And the guy — Segs, apparently — turns just in time for a t-shirt to hit him in the face.

"Thanks, Daddy!" Segs shouts back (which, what the fuck?), and yanks the t-shirt over his head unceremoniously. "Drink the Pink," it instructs Jamie in big block letters. It is much, much less attractive than the abs that were there before.

Segs opens his mouth again, but he's interrupted this time by a guy Jamie doesn't know running into the room and hooking his arm around Segs's neck affectionately to start pulling him past Jamie toward the stairs.

"Beer pong time!" the other guy explains to Jamie on their way by, then gives Jamie a quick once-over and a grin that Jamie can't quite read before getting a grip on Segs's elbow to better drag him up the stairs.

Just after Segs's head disappears from view, he ducks back down for a second to beam at Jamie and say, brightly, "By the way, I'm Tyler!"

By the time Jamie's got his mouth in gear enough to reply with his own name, Tyler and the other guy are long gone. He finds out later that the other guy's name is also Tyler but everyone calls him Brownie — he and Segs have been best friends since forever and apparently when they showed up for Rush it had quickly been deemed too confusing to call either of them Tyler — and that they'd flat-out schooled Jordie and Goose at beer pong. He's not sure if any of that makes the whole situation better or worse.

Other things Jamie learns over the course of the evening: Segs is Canadian, like Jamie is, only he's from Toronto and therefore bleeds blue-and-white for the Leafs and Jays even though both have been mediocre for years; Segs will drink almost anything you put in his hand (gleefully told to Jamie by Brownie as he concocted some godawful-smelling mixture of tequila, gin, Jäger, shitty beer, and the juice from the bottom of an olive jar to give to Segs — Jamie can, in fact, confirm that Segs drank it); Segs will drop whatever he's doing and dance if he hears Drake on the stereo, and when he does, he'll end up with the hottest girl in the room dancing with him, as if by magic; corollary: Segs has no problem with enthusiastically participating in public displays of affection; Segs has a _lot_ of bros, and by the end of the night, has even more, including basically everyone Jamie knows; and, Segs can sleep anywhere, including draped halfway down the top two steps of the stairwell, shirtless again, with his head pillowed on a ping pong paddle.

Well, that last thing he actually learns at around four in the morning, but he hasn't slept yet and it's still dark out, so it totally counts.

It turns out that beer pong isn't the only sports-adjacent activity Segs is good at. Last year, Jamie and the rest of the guys in the baseball house were near the top of pretty much all of the intramural sports that they bothered with, 'cause, well, you don't earn a Div I baseball scholarship by being a bad all-around athlete. But this year, Delta is inexplicably giving them a run for their money along with the usual suspects (mostly the other sports houses and a couple of the first world frats that Jamie's never been a big fan of).

Only it's actually pretty explicable. Because… Segs. Well, and Brownie and DZ and Skinny and a few of their other frosh, but mostly? Segs.

His tennis serve is consistently sharp, his golf swing is on point, and he's even fucking good at pistol, even though on the day of the competition, he claimed he'd never actually been shooting before. It's all pretty obnoxious, but in Jamie's mind, it's the ultimate frisbee that's the worst.

Segs is _exactly_ as fast as those compact, lean-but-powerful thighs make it look like he should be. He's agile as fuck and has this wickedly accurate wrist-snap that just should not be possible to get off as quick as he does.

And somehow, Delta always seems to end up skins when the shirts-or-skins coin flip comes up. Jamie is man enough to admit that he occasionally finds this distracting. Mostly because if he hadn't admitted it out loud that one time, Jordie would never have shut up about it and it probably would've been even more fucking embarrassing, in the end. Jamie knows this from experience. Jordie claims that making Jamie tell the truth when he doesn't want to is one of his essential elder-brotherly duties. Jamie contends that it's just that Jordie's a jackass.

Either way, now that the guys all know he's got a bit of a thing for Segs (because even though only a few of them were in the room when Jordie needled him into saying something, none of them can keep their big mouths shut), they go out of their way to hang out with the Delts more. Or maybe they were already doing that and now they're just even more insistent that Jamie come with them. In any case, this is how he ends up standing on the shore of Lady Bird Lake in the middle of a somewhat chilly December night, watching Segs stuff a large potato into one end of a long black plastic pipe. It's a week before finals start and they all need to blow off some steam, but this is not a method that Jamie's ever seen tried before.

"What the fuck is he even doing?" Jamie mutters.

Pevs, a Delta senior who Jamie always thought had a little more sense than the rest of them, laughs. "Just wait. This is his second one, the first one kinda blew up but he swears he fixed the problem. Something about using ABS plastic instead of PVC."

Jamie's a sports management major, he has no idea what that means, but sure, whatever. He can buy that some plastics are different than others. He hadn't realized that Segs knew about that kind of thing, but now that he thinks about it, he has no idea what Segs is majoring in.

"Is that supposed to be comforting?" McKenzie breaks in.

"Nope," Pevs grins. "But it means it'll be a good show either way."

Segs walks to the very edge of the water. "Okay!" he shouts, turning to look at them. "Everyone should probably back up a little." They all shuffle back a few meters. He sets one end of the pipe down and sprays something from an aerosol can into the other end, then seals a plastic cap over it. He turns back toward the water and raises the tube, pointing it high. "Here goes!"

He triggers something on the pipe, there's a loud whiz-pop-crack and the potato launches out of the tube in a blur, making a tall, narrow arc over the water before splashing down about two-thirds of the way across.

"Wooooooooo!" Segs shouts, thrusting the pipe into the air with both hands as they all cheer. It's still smoking a little in the cool night air.

Rouss and Eaks and Garbs swarm him immediately, all clamoring for the next go. Jamie finds a patch of grass to sit on and keep drinking his beer; it looks like they're gonna be here for a while, if they don't get chased off by the cops for making too much noise first.

After Segs hands the pipe to Eaks, the cap and potato to Garbs, and the spray can to Rouss, he gives them a quick explanation of what to do before retreating to watch them bicker from about five meters away. Eventually between the three of them they get it loaded up for Eaks to shoot; Segs is joking around with Dills and Fer and Marchy by then, but Jamie notices that he keeps an eye on the cannon until Eaks pulls the trigger and the potato goes flying smoothly over the water. It thumps when it hits the ground on the opposite shore. The rest of them all cheer again, but Segs just smiles, wide and satisfied.

He glances over and catches Jamie watching him; their eyes meet, and Jamie raises his beer bottle in acknowledgement. Segs's grin gets somehow even brighter.

On the walk back to their street afterwards, Jamie ends up next to Segs. The guys are chattering away around them, but he and Segs are quiet as they walk.

"Didn't know you knew how to build things like that," Jamie says after a few minutes.

"Yeah, well," Segs shrugs, sounding slightly embarrassed. "Building shit is kind of my thing. Mechanical engineering."

"Huh." Jamie sneaks a glance at Segs, who's looking down at the toes of his steel-toed boots as he walks. It's hard to tell in the dim light of the streetlamps, but Jamie thinks Segs might be blushing a little. Like he's not sure how Jamie's going to respond, even though Jamie's pretty sure he's never given Segs a reason to think he's the kind of asshole who would make fun of someone for their major. "Engineering. That's cool."

Segs lifts his head to beam at Jamie. "Yeah, I like it. You're sports management, right?"

"Yeah."

"Cool."

They walk another block before Jamie thinks of something else to say (small talk makes him nervous, okay, don't judge). "So… Pevs said this was your second potato gun?"

That earns him another huge smile, and the rest of the way back Segs enthuses at length about how happy he was that the ABS plastic held up and his plan for the next model to include a metered propane injection system and fan vent. Jamie nods along, and every time Segs pauses, he asks him another question to keep him going. Engineering isn't Jamie's thing, but he likes hearing other people talk about what they're interested in. Segs is obviously _really_ into engineering, and as far as Jamie can tell, he's damn good at it, too.

So listening to him talk about it is… restful. Yeah. Let's go with restful. (The Jordie in his head is laughing at him, but like in real life, Jamie finds him easy to ignore.)

Finals are the usual whirl of sleeplessness and focus, but when Jamie checks his grades over the winter break, they're pretty good. He spends most of the break sleeping, and the rest hanging out with his family and high school friends back in BC. Jordie takes great delight in reporting that he heard from Kari who heard from Tuukka who heard from Brownie that Segs got straight As. Because of course he did.

The next semester, Jamie walks into his Stats class to find Segs waving at him from the back. He climbs the steps and drops into the chair next to him.

"I can't even tell you how glad I am to see you," Jamie says. "I was afraid I wasn't going to know anyone in this class, I'm shit at math and with baseball season starting up soon this semester's going to be crazy. Last year I almost failed Calc until Horc talked me through it before the final."

"Don't you worry, little Benn," Segs grins at him (conveniently ignoring that Jamie's a year and a half older than him and at least five kilos heavier), "I'll take good care of you."

"Sure you will." Jamie makes his voice as deadpan as possible, but he can't help grinning back at Segs so it's probably not his best effort. "Now I'm not sure if I should be relieved or scared."

"Well, you know what I always say," Tyler says, leaning towards him.

"No," Jamie replies, staring at the podium at the front of the room in an effort to ignore the fact that he can feel Tyler's breath against his cheek. "What _do_ you always say?"

"Why. Not. Both." Each word is a little puff of air, tickling Jamie's ear and making it hard to stay still in his chair.

That's when the professor walks in, and Segs drops back in his chair with a clatter. When Jamie looks over at him a few seconds later, he's got a notepad out (it looks like the kind with the graph paper on the back) and seems completely at ease.

It's the first class, so it's just the usual administrative stuff. The prof ends it early and Jamie's about to turn to Segs to see if he wants to grab lunch, but Segs is already darting down the aisle to catch the professor before he leaves. They have a brief, intense conversation that ends with the prof nodding and Segs smiling, looking relieved. Segs glances up at Jamie afterwards, waves cheerfully when he sees him watching, and follows the professor out the door.

(Jamie finds out later that this Stats class wouldn't usually fulfill the Mech E Stats requirement, but it's the one that best fit in Segs's schedule, so that was him arranging to do an extra credit project so he could petition the department for it to count. Apparently, Segs is pretty convincing.)

Jamie belatedly realizes that the rest of the lecture hall has cleared out, so he gathers up his stuff and leaves. The rest of the week goes by fast, split between classes and baseball practice. Jamie loves the beginning of the season, always so much potential and promise. He just wishes there were more hours in a day, and more days in a week. It reminds him of the summer before his senior year of high school, when he worked three jobs at once on top of training like a fiend; he barely had time to sleep but he'd made some good money doing it. College baseball season is similar, except he's way more broke now than he was then. Still, he wouldn't trade it for the world.

Jamie's in the living room Monday night, working on the first problem set, when Segs shows up at the house.

"Working on Stats?" Segs asks, barging in without waiting for an answer. "Wanna compare notes? First p-set looks pretty simple but it's always good to have a sanity check."

"Um, sure." Jamie hasn't gotten all that far yet, though it's true that the first p-set is easy enough, mostly just an intro to graphing data sets.

But as the weeks go on, Jamie becomes profoundly grateful for the presence of Segs in the room with him. For someone who usually seems so instinctive and impulsive, Segs is a surprisingly patient teacher, thorough and good at breaking down concepts into nice logical chains of information and numbers. Often some of the other guys will join them in the living room, and Segs helps them, too. Listening to him explain partial derivatives to Val, it's clear to Jamie that if Segs had been around last year, there's no way Jamie would've gotten as close as he did to failing Calc.

He's not sure how it happens, but working on Stats with Segs becomes one of the things he looks forward to the most each week. This is definitely the most he's ever enjoyed math.

The semester goes by fast. Econ and Ethics in Sport are both pretty interesting, Communications is annoying but not hard, and he's glad for the French he learned in high school, it makes getting through the language requirement easy.

It's the week before finals, in the midst of the last push of baseball's regular season. The team's really good this year, so the postseason is looming, but thankfully it doesn't start until after finals. Jamie's sprawled on his bed, reviewing his Econ notes, when Segs appears in the open doorway.

"Hey, I wanted to ask you something and Jordie said it was okay if I just came up." Segs looks fidgety, almost nervous, which is weird as fuck because they've known each other for months now.

""Course it's okay, dumbass. You spend as much time here as you do with the Delts."

That gets him a smile, but only a short one. Segs looks even more tired than usual. "So, uh." Segs shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans, eyes trained at a spot on the floor a little past Jamie. "I know you're hella busy right now, so if you can't make it, don't worry about it, but, uh. One of my classes, I've been working on this robot? And the competition's tomorrow night at seven and it's usually pretty awesome and I was wondering if maybe you'd want to come watch?" He glances up at Jamie hopefully. "I checked your schedule, your afternoon game should be over in time?"

Jamie blinks. "Um, yeah. Yeah, it should be over in time. I can come. Do I need a ticket or something?"

He gets a big smile from Segs this time, bright and long. "Nah, it's open to everyone, you can bring Jordie or some of the guys if you want."

"Okay." Jamie smiles back, and they stay like that, beaming at each other, for several moments until Segs shakes himself out of it.

"Cool. See you then!" One last grin, and he's gone from the doorway and pounding down the stairs. Jamie hears the front door slam. He goes down to the living room, where Jordie is studying with Kari and Dales.

"You're coming with me to the robot thingy tomorrow," he tells Jordie.

"Oh, yeah? You finally gonna make a move on the engineer, little bro?"

Everyone within earshot laughs. Jamie glares. "No comment."

Jordie grins. "Guess I'd better come, then, just in case. Otherwise who knows what trouble you'll get into."

Eaks and Garbs end up tagging along, too; Jamie briefly worries that he's bringing too many people, but there are plenty of open seats in the lecture hall when they get there, and Demers shouts to get their attention and then beckons them over to the where the Delts have saved a whole two rows.

Jamie's not sure what he expected, but the competition is surprisingly detailed and fierce. The robots are run through a set of tasks based on winter sports, some of them organized as solo runs while others are structured as head-to-head competitions. In all cases except for the optional autonomous bonus round that kicks the whole thing off, the robots are guided through their tasks by a remote operator holding a control box that looks a lot like a beefed-up game system controller. There are two big projection screens behind the playing field, one connected to a camera focused on the robot and the other providing a close-up view of the operator's hands on the controller.

Segs's hands are deft and steady up on the big screen, calmly guiding his robot through each task. The curling rink is especially fun, with the robots pushing sliding stones down what looks like a modified tabletop shuffleboard. It requires a particularly sensitive, delicate touch, the professor notes in the introduction, and most of the operators can't seem to find the right calibration. But Segs's robot responds perfectly, sliding its stones with a precision that borders on art.

The last stage is a free-for-all that's loosely based on hockey but way more chaotic, as all fourteen robots are zipping around the rink at once. Segs's bot rings up several goals in quick succession before one of the bigger robots runs it over and damages one of its treads. It takes Segs a little while to figure out how to compensate, looking frustrated with his hands tense on the controller; he ends up coming in second. The prize is a $50 Starbucks gift card, which seems to cheer him up a little — Segs has a soft spot for their cinnamon dolce lattes.

Afterwards, Jamie heads down with the rest of the guys to say hi to Segs, but ends up drifting to the back of the group, waiting until even Jordie has left, taking Eaks and Garbs with him. Segs is holding his robot in his hands, frowning down at the broken tread, when Jamie finally goes up to him.

"That was awesome," Jamie tells him, smiling. Segs looks up, startled, and beams at him.

"Jamie! You made it! Thanks for coming!" He looks down at the robot, smile dimming a little. "Stevie did okay, even if he did get a bit mangled at the end."

"Stevie?"

Segs laughs, ducking his head a little sheepishly. "Yeah, after Stevie-Y? Yzerman was my favorite player growing up."

Jamie grins, then reaches out to tap the robot gently. "Stevie-Y, eh? You got pretty good taste for a Toronto boy, I'll give you that."

Segs raises an eyebrow at him. "Glad I have your approval."

They both stare down at the robot for a couple of moments, then Segs clears his throat. When Jamie looks up, Segs is worrying his his lip between his teeth anxiously.

"Listen, I gotta go to the workshop and start fixing this guy back up so that I can turn him in on Monday. But… if you don't have to go straight back, do you wanna come with me for a little bit?"

Jamie takes a moment to think about it, but it's not that late and his next game isn't until the afternoon, and he hadn't been planning to do any more studying tonight anyway. "Sure, I can hang out for a bit."

That bright smile again. Segs still looks exhausted, but when he smiles like that it lights up his whole face. "Awesome, let's go."

Segs leads him into the basement of the Mech E building, down a couple of dim, utilitarian hallways, and into a big workshop filled with various industrial-looking machines. He sits down at a workbench that Jamie guesses is his personal workspace and riffles through a couple of small bins full of parts before emerging with a new tread.

"Have a seat," Segs says, gesturing to the folding chair at the next bench over. "Hilary won't mind if you use hers." He waves the new tread at Jamie. "His sensors got all fucked up, too, but first we'll give him some new wheels."

Jamie pulls the chair over and sits, then watches in fascination as Segs carefully removes the broken tread and then even more carefully attaches the new one. He has big hands, with a wide, angular palm and strong fingers, but they also have such a delicate touch to them, moving with this deliberate precision that is _mesmerizing_. Jamie finds himself holding his breath as Segs screws in the last tiny screw.

"There," Segs says with satisfaction. He pets the tread with one finger, then looks up at Jamie. "You wanna try? He won't be able to do all of his tricks without some of his sensors, but he should be good to run around a bit, at least."

"Sure, yeah. If you're sure I won't mess him up worse."

"Nah, I trust you." Which isn't actually that comforting no matter how good it makes him feel, but when Segs hands him the controller, Jamie takes it. Segs flips the on switch, and the controller hums to life in Jamie's hands.

It takes him a little bit to get used to all the buttons and the dual joystick setup, but once he does he has to admit that it's pretty damn fun making Stevie-Y zip around the workshop.

"Man, you're a natural," Segs says. "You've got good hands."

"Um, thanks." Jamie turns off the controller and sets it down behind him on the table. He meets Tyler's eyes. "So do you."

"Yeah?" smirks Segs. It's his usual cocky-flirtatious look, but Jamie thinks he sees a thread of underlying uncertainty there. "Were you watching them tonight?"

"Couldn't look away," Jamie replies honestly. "Segs—"

Segs surges forward and kisses him, hard and messy and perfect. Jamie ends up with Tyler sprawled across his lap, arms wrapped around his shoulders and hips grinding down in a dirty-hot, relentless rhythm that drives any and all words out of his head. He grabs Tyler's ass with both hands to pull him even closer, then plants his feet to thrust up in counterpoint, adding to the grind.

"Fuck, fuck," gasps Segs, and leans back to fumble with Jamie's jeans while Jamie holds on for dear life as he tries not to drop him. Tyler gets both their pants open faster than seems plausible, but Jamie stops thinking about it as Tyler wraps his right hand around both of them, his left coming up to clutch at Jamie's shoulder for balance.

"God," says Jamie dazedly, eyes locked on where Tyler's got them both in his grip. "Look at your _hand_ , fuck."

Segs gives him this wicked fucking grin, twists his wrist on the upstroke, and that's all Jamie needs to come all over both of them, throwing his head back as he shudders apart.

Tyler makes a wounded noise and tips forward to bite at Jamie's throat as he jerks himself just a few more times before adding to the mess.

They stay like that for a minute, breathing hard and clutching each other, until Tyler laughs into Jamie's shoulder. He lifts up his head — which almost causes them to overbalance until Jamie adjusts his grip on Tyler's ass — and gives Jamie a wry smile. "Well, that was fast."

Jamie laughs, and they carefully start untangling their limbs. Segs flops back into his own chair with a satisfied sigh. He looks down at his messy stomach and come-covered hand thoughtfully, then shrugs and sits up to strip off his t-shirt. He cleans himself up and then tosses the shirt at Jamie so he can do the same.

Jamie stands up, wipes himself down, and tucks himself back into his pants. He looks up to find Tyler watching him closely.

"So, uh." Jamie's never been good at this part, but he wants this enough to just say it. "We should do this again? But maybe not 'til after finals?"

Segs nods. "Yeah, definitely. Or at least not until Monday. You've got a game tomorrow, and I'm going to be up all night fixing the sensors. But my first final isn't until Stats on Thursday. We could study together?"

"That's my first one, too. But somehow this seems like a bad idea. You're, um. Kind of distracting."

Tyler's eyes widen innocently. "But bad ideas are my favorite!"

Jamie gives Segs an unimpressed look.

Segs grins up at him. "No, see. We could study, and then we could have a _reward_ for studying. Win-win."

Jamie's a responsible guy, but he's not made of stone. He leans down and gives Tyler one last, fierce kiss, intense enough to leave him melted like a puddle in his chair, eyes closed and mouth open appealingly as Jamie pulls away. "Okay. Monday."

"Awesome," says Segs, eyes popping open. He sits up in his chair long enough to reach out and swat Jamie on the ass as he turns to go. "Best Monday ever," he predicts.

And it is.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so it's not technically a whole calendar year. /o\ But it's most of a school year, anyway!
> 
> Mentioned in passing (mostly by nickname): Cody Eakin (Eaks), Jason Demers (Daddy), Tyler Brown (Brownie), Jordie Benn, Alex Goligoski (Goose), Michael Del Zotto (DZ), Jeff Skinner (Skinny), Rich Peverley (Pevs), Curtis McKenzie, Antoine Roussel (Rouss), Ryan Garbutt (Garbs), Brenden Dillon (Dills), Andrew Ference (Fer), Brad Marchand (Marchy), Kari Lehtonen, Tuukka Rask, Shawn Horcoff (Horc), Valeri Nichushkin (Val), Trevor Daley (Dales), Steve Yzerman, Hilary Knight.
> 
> The robot competition was inspired by [this one](http://anonym.to/?http://newsoffice.mit.edu/2014/student-built-robots-compete-on-the-slopes-0509).


End file.
